Chrysanthemums and Other Declarations
by bethechange32
Summary: Flower Shop AU. Emma Swan owns a floral shop in Boston. Regina Mills is a stock broker recently returned to the city. Paths cross. Hearts get broken. The language of flowers is alive and well. SwanQueen endgame. T for now, may change to M in the future.
1. Chapter 1

Prompt by demisexualmerrill on tumblr, and some quality floral knowledge by koscheiis on tumblr. I don't own any of these characters (they are owned by ABC), and any places or other names associated in this story are purely coincidental.

Emma bustled around the small shop on Charles street, picking up scraps of ribbon from in between potted plants and grabbing the broom to sweep up behind the counter before she went to flip the worn wooden sign from closed to open on the front door. Emma had only been running "Boston Floral Designs" alone for about two months now, but even in that short time, she'd made some major changes, switching out the old sea foam colored tile from the 70's in favor of a matte wooden floor, knocking out a wall in the middle of the store to open up the space, and fully revamping the flower stands. She wasn't an interior designer, by any means, but even SHE knew the store hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint since 1979. As she finished tidying up, a middle-aged woman walked in wearing a business skirt and blazer, with the wind seemingly chasing HER, she was moving so quickly.

"Good morning," Emma called from behind the counter, "I'll be right with you."

"I just need to place an order before I get to work this morning," the woman called back, sounding rushed, but not rude. Emma stood up, retying her apron behind her back.

"I'm your gal for that, then," Emma said, summoning the woman to the counter. "What are you looking to order for? A birthday? Significant other?"

"A business client, actually," the woman responded. "I'm not sure exactly what I'm looking for - do you have any samples?"

"Definitely - there are a few in the display case behind me, or this binder will show you a more comprehensive list of all of our standard arrangements and prices," Emma said, pulling it out from behind the shelf and spinning it around to face the woman. "Feel free to flip through here, and if you have any questions or want to know what's in season, feel free to ask." The woman opened the binder and began looking through it.

"I did have a question, actually," the woman said, still looking at the pictures of arrangements. "This - did this shop used to be owned by someone different? I only ask because I was pretty sure I'd been here several years ago, and it's the same name, but it looks entirely different now - really good, now, actually - and I didn't know if it had new owners."

Emma didn't respond for a minute, pondering how much she wanted to say. "Yea, it uh, it used to be owned by an older couple, the Swans? But, uh, I own the place now. Glad to hear you like the updates," she finished.

"Yea, it's so much more inviting now from the street - I moved away, and when I came back, this was a pleasant surprise," said the woman, smiling. "I wonder what made that couple that used to be here want to sell - the place was a little out of date, but they were really nice people."

"They...they passed away a couple of months ago, actually," Emma said, a little awkwardly. "I just moved back to Boston, too. I'm their daughter."

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," the woman said immediately. "I didn't mean to - I definitely didn't mean to pry into that, I was just curious - forget I asked at all. I'll, uh, I'll take this arrangement," she said, pointing at a middle sized bouquet.

"No, it's fine, really, just still adjusting around here without them," Emma sighed, moving to ring the woman up. "I redid the place when I took over. Mom and Dad were the best people I knew, but they weren't terribly in touch with the changing times," smirking a little to lighten the mood.

The woman laughed, relieved. "Still, I'm sure it's hard managing a store in the middle of grieving. My condolences, truly." A silence fell as Emma finished ringing the woman up.

"That'll be $56.53," Emma said. "Will you be paying with cash or card? And what's your billing address?"

"Card," she responded. "You can put my address as 108 Mifflin St., I guess, since I don't quite have an office space yet, and the address to send the flowers to is right here, it's to a Thomas Wilcox," she said, handing Emma a business card. Are you still open the same days you, uh, you used to be? I'll be making a lot of these purchases for work."

"Yup, 6 days a week, close early on Sundays," Emma responded. "Feel free to come in any time. Who do you work for?"

The woman laughed. "I work for me," she smiled. "Regina Mills, of MillsTrade. I like to send my clients flowers after our first deal or a big trade. Adds a personal touch, which is why our clients prefer to work with me instead of a massive corporation," she said, pride written across her face. "I recently relocated back to Boston for personal reasons, so I needed a new floral designer, and remembered this one from when I used to live close."

"Well, best of luck with your work, and glad you stopped back in. Hopefully you'll be pleased with what we come up with, and decide to come back," Emma said amiably. "That arrangement will be delivered by Thursday, by the way."

"I'll be back, I'm sure!" Regina called, already halfway out the door. As Emma watched her get into her Mercedes Benz parallel parked outside the store, she couldn't help but feel like she'd just been blown over with tropical storm winds.

* * *

Little did she know, Emma would in fact see Regina soon. The broker came back on Thursday and Friday to place two separate orders. One week became two, and soon, Regina was becoming Emma's most regular customer. Emma began to look forward to the woman's trips to the store, bringing with her ridiculous stories about her clients or boyfriend, whom Emma learned was the biggest reason Regina had decided to relocate her business. Regina was always interested in the store, and how Emma was getting along. One Wednesday, Regina came in so many times that finally, Emma handed Regina her personal phone number scribbled on a sticky note, telling Regina to save some gas, call ahead, and Emma would put it on her bill. Regina wasn't the only Bostonite ordering flowers, however. Emma's parents couldn't understand why newspaper advertisements weren't brining in as much business as they used to, but Emma began utilizing online advertising and sent coupons out to their loyal customers for the upcoming holiday. Business had picked up, and Emma was beginning to make a dent in the debt her parents had inadvertently left her to deal with. Emma also found that she was beginning to enjoy the whole process - flowers weren't exactly her ideal life's work, but she had a knack for what looked good together and flourished in the business and marketing side of things in a way her parents never had. She'd gotten business from some big names in Boston, and was personable when men walked in without a clue as to what flowers they should buy their girlfriends.

One guy named Robin walked in on a Monday morning and seemed determined to pick every single flower in the bouquet he wanted to buy his girlfriend. "It just needs to be perfect, you know? Marion, she's perfect, and her birthday's coming up, and I don't want to mess up and buy her the wrong thing." Emma rolled her eyes subtly, but smirked - it was pretty easy to convince these guys to spend a little more, and she'd always laughed a little at people who thought romance was the ultimate meaning of life. Emma had been in a few relationships in the past, but nothing so revolutionary she'd felt the need to continue past a couple months of fun.

"I'm sure we can find something for you," she laughed. "What are her - Marion's? - favorite colors?"

"Purple, I think, and maybe yellow," Robin immediately responded.

"Well, if you want to be extra romantic, Heather is purple, and it symbolizes admiration, we could add in some purple violets and yellow dandelions for faithfulness, and finish it off with some yellow zinnias, which essentially mean you're thinking about her all the time," Emma grinned.

"Wow, really? That sounds perfect! I didn't know flowers actually meant anything," Robin said, relieved.

"They don't have to," Emma said, "But old fashioned romantics say flowers were used for communication in a lot of different circumstances, especially romantic intentions, and most women I know appreciate the extra gesture." Robin whistled happily as he left the store, making Emma shake her head once again, smiling.

* * *

Even though Regina didn't seem to walk anywhere (only power walk or run), she started to linger a little longer in Emma's shop when she DID decide to come in (Emma had started to get texts at 8 o'clock at night asking for a bouquet to be delivered to such and such address on Friday, but Regina still sometimes wanted to come in to see what was in stock for last minute orders, or get Emma's opinion on colors. Regina probably could've taken care of those things via text, too, but found more and more that she was actually looking forward to seeing the blonde when the need for flowers arose). Emma even knew which clients were Regina's favorite, after an incident in which Regina had texted Emma to request an arrangement, but told her not to do anything too nice - the client had kind of been a jerk when he met with Regina. Emma laughed, and texted back that she'd throw in some wilty geraniums, free of charge. Regina texted back, confused, and Emma responded with a google link. Regina laughed out loud - the client HAD embodied stupidity and folly. Regina was amused by the idea, and it had since become an inside joke for Regina to request an arrangement, heavy on the geraniums.

Emma gathered that Regina didn't have a ton of friends in Boston since she was new to town, and in the small percentage of time that she wasn't working herself to death over her job, she spent with her boyfriend. Emma hadn't asked what his name was, and Regina hadn't been inclined to give it to her, but she seemed to genuinely think he was worth any difficulty the move had given her - she didn't talk about him the way some of the guys who came into the shop talked about their partners, giddy and flushed. When Regina spoke about her boyfriend, she got quieter, and the swirling wind seemed to die down around her a little. Emma didn't think she'd ever felt love like the kind she read in Regina's eyes.

One morning Regina had come into the store, and mentioned to Emma that she was, in fact, taking the day off of work.

"A little ironic, don't you think, since you're in here ordering for a client?" Emma smirked, teasing.

"Okay, when I say a day off of work, I mean I don't have any meetings, Emma," Regina rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. "Obviously, I can't just not do any work, that would be business suicide."

"Would it?" Emma asked, laughing again. "I don't think you'd know what to do with yourself if you ever took a day off, and I'm beginning to think you're not fully human. I mean, I've never seen you sit still for longer than fifteen minutes at a time. Do you plug in at night instead of sleep, or...?"

Regina huffed, ignoring Emma's insinuation that she might be a robot. "That's completely untrue, I do non-work stuff all the time," she said indignantly.

"Really. Name one thing in the last month."

"I-"

"That was by yourself, not with your man."

"I, um-" Regina thought for about twenty seconds. "I went to the grocery store a week ago by myself."

"Oh, a social butterfly inDEED," Emma drawled. "When was the last time you watched a TV show?" Before Regina could respond, she added, "NOT the weather or the news." Regina closed her mouth.

"C'mon, just take today off. Do something you want to do that's not work related. Anything. What have you wanted to go see in Boston since you've been here?" Emma asked. Regina thought for a minute.

"I mean, I haven't really had a lot of time to think..." she trailed off. "Wait - well, several times when I've walked in here, I walk past that - I don't know what it's called - some South African food place a couple doors down? It always looks good through the window, but I never have time to stop."

"Then you should go! And I can attest to the fact that it is, in fact, really delicious food. It'll be worth the time you're not calling clients," Emma grinned.

"You should - I - uh, would you like to join me?" Regina asked, hesitantly. She wasn't really sure if she should, since really the only interaction they'd had was in the Boston Floral storefront, but Emma was maybe the closest thing she had to any semblance of a friend since she'd moved back to the city.

"Really?" Emma responded. "Um, yea, I'd love to - lemme just put the "Be back at 1:00" sign on the door and I'll be ready."

Regina actually had a whole different demeanor when she wasn't in work mode. She was still kind and pleasant, but much more relaxed. Emma thought she laughed a little louder, too. They enjoyed a delicious lunch, and to Emma's surprise, actually stayed a whole forty-five minutes after they'd put their forks down, as though maybe Regina really had forgotten about the clock. In reality, Regina had noticed the time, but decided that maybe Emma was right, and she was enjoying herself so much she didn't want to leave quite yet.

"See, now that wasn't so bad," Emma teased when they finally got up to leave.

"I'll admit, maybe there are some redeeming qualities to taking a break once in a while," Regina acquiesced. "Thank you for coming to lunch with me."

"Pleasure was all mine - it's not often I have lunch with someone else, either, to be honest," Emma said. "I'll have to take you to some of Boston's other finest diners when you decide you've earned another lunch break - so, ya know, maybe in a month or so," she grinned.

Regina laughed. "I promise it'll be sooner than that," she said, turning toward her car.

And Emma walked back the opposite way to the flower shop, unable to keep her grin from stretching wider on her face.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Would appreciate any and all feedback. I usually wait until I'm finished with a story completely to post in chapters, but it feels like the SwanQueen fandom is starting to die off a little bit, and I wanted to get this out there before you all disappear completely!**


	2. Chapter 2

And so began a month of first weekly, then twice a week, then nearly every other day lunches with Regina, as they tried nearly every type of food offered around Boston - they walked if it was close to the store, or Regina got to-go orders from restaurants further away to bring to Emma. Business was thriving for both women, Emma teased Regina even more, Regina smiled even wider, and they even started texting each other about other things in life that weren't flower orders or business related. If pressed, they might have admitted they considered the other a friend, though they never brought up the status of their business-friendship to each other.

The lovestruck guy, Robin, came back in a few weeks later, but the giddiness of love seemed to have worn off, and he wasn't whistling as he walked in the door.

Ah, he's moved past the honeymoon stage, Emma thought, they all do after a while.

He seemed lost in thought when he walked up to the counter, so Emma asked what she could do for him.

"Just a medium sized bouquet please," Robin said distractedly.

"Do we want more purple and yellow?" Emma asked. Robin looked surprised that she'd remembered him, much less his previous order.

"Ah, no, no, doesn't really matter what goes in it, just a mix, please, whatever you have in the store right now," he said quickly.

Emma selected a few things, and while she was ringing Robin up, she asked, "So, did she like the meaning of the flowers?"

"What?" Robin said. "Oh, Marion, yea, she thought it was sweet," he responded, again, halfheartedly.

"Same address as before?" Emma asked.

"NO - no, different address," he said. "Ah, this one is going to 108 Mifflin Street." When Emma looked up, surprised he was sending them somewhere else, he explained, "It's my uh, my secretary, she's been doing a good job at work lately and the partners wanted to send her some flowers." When Emma didn't respond, he offered, "I just, you know, feel bad, so we thought she deserved something."

Like the bouquet she'd made for Robin's girlfriend, and Regina's favorite and not so favorite clients, Emma's nearly photographic memory kicked in. She knew she'd seen that address before, but - wait, that didn't sound right. Mifflin street sounded familiar because it was Regina's home address. As far as she knew Regina didn't live with anyone else, and didn't have any kids, which meant - Regina was this guy's secretary? Immediately, Emma frowned, because knowing what she knew about Regina's job, there was no way she had to time to work a second job, and why would she need to anyways with the clientele she'd been bringing in recently? Emma didn't want to jump to conclusions, though, and honestly didn't really know all that much about where Regina lived. It's not like they were best friends or anything, so Regina could easily not have mentioned roommates, and Emma wasn't about to unnecessarily offend the client standing in front of her.

"Sure, yea, we'll whip something up for ya and deliver it in a couple days," Emma told Robin, distracted. Emma didn't sleep well when she got home from work that night, and got up around 1 a.m. to take get a glass of water. She opened her laptop and googled Regina's address. From Google Maps, she saw it was a pretty large house, so there was technically room for plenty of other people to live there, she reasoned. But Regina, another side of her argued, didn't sound like someone who needed and/or wanted roommates. It seemed odd that she never would have mentioned them. Something just felt off about Robin's order, because if Regina was the only one in the house, why would Robin lie about who she was to him, and then proceed to send her flowers? She hoped she was wrong about the whole situation. She really, really hoped.

For a couple days, Emma didn't see Regina. She wanted to call and ask about Robin, but before she could make up her mind about whether or not that was a good idea, Regina sent her a quick text saying she was going out of town for a couple of days on a business trip and probably wouldn't respond to any messages. Emma sighed, realizing she couldn't do anything about it until Regina got back. She went about making bouquets, including the one for the Mifflin Street house, and taking care of some of the monthly finances. Emma had long since paid off the debt her parents had owed, which in turn would free her up to sell the place and use the money for what she had intended to do all along - finish her college degree. She'd been halfway done when her parents had gotten sick, so she'd put her classes on hold to come home, care for them, and help manage the store. When they'd passed, going back wasn't an option, especially without the funding. However, she'd been at this for almost a year, and she felt like selling the place would be disappointing her parent's memory, and honestly, she'd put so much work into the place - at least, those were the reasons she'd allow herself to sit on. There was another reason in the back of her mind that had something to do with never seeing a certain stock broker again if she wasn't doing flowers anymore, and she couldn't let down her best client, but she pushed that one to the back of her mind.

The next day Regina called Emma, which was pretty unusual - Regina was supposed to be gone for another day.

"Hello?" Emma answered, confused.

"I came home early from my trip and - well, it looks like my boyfriend stumbled across your store, too!" she said cheerily. "And he doesn't even know this is where I get my arrangements from, so I guess your name is really getting out there, Emma - business is good!" Emma started to feel the pit in her stomach growing again.

"Why - um, why do you think your boyfriend came in here?" Emma asked.

"Oh, like you didn't already know it was our anniversary," Regina laughed. "I know you make all the arrangements, dear, and it was lovely. I'm glad you met him, actually, now you can put a face to all my stories. The arrangement was beautiful, and I wanted to say thank you. He put a note with it saying he would meet me at my house tonight to take me out to dinner and I have quite a few things to do before then, so I didn't have time to run by the store. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you I'm in on the surprise now!"

Emma swallowed, wondering how to ask without saying too much. "So you, uh, you didn't think the pink peonies were too much?"

"Oh, definitely not, I love peonies, and pink adds a nice warm tone to a lighter bouquet," Regina responded, and Emma's heart thudded loudly in her chest. How could she tell Regina the real story? Was she even supposed to? If Regina was Robin's girlfriend, who exactly was Marion? Didn't Robin have, like, patient confidentiality privileges or something? No, Emma, that's a doctor, you're a damn FLORIST, and you're not supposed to get in these kind of situations. What were the chances that in a city the size of Boston, he'd have picked the ONE florist -

"Emma? Are you there?" Regina asked.

Emma took a deep breath. In any other circumstance, she probably would've said the whole thing was none of her business, but this was REGINA. There was no way she could let this go and not have a guilty conscience for the rest of EVER. She would never be able to look Regina in the eye again.

"Regina, are you home?" Emma asked.

"Yes, Emma, what's going on?" Regina responded, concerned.

"Like, just you, right? Robin's not there?"

"Yes, just me - Emma, you're making me nervous -"

"You're not unsafe or anything, I just need to tell you something, and I'd rather you be alone when I do," Emma said quickly.

Regina paused a second, then said, "that's not terribly reassuring, but go on."

"Regina, uh," Emma paused, trying to figure out where to start. "This week - this week wasn't the first time Robin came into the store."

"Okay?" Regina said, confused.

"I just - I didn't know who he was, you know, you've never really mentioned his name, and so I didn't know, okay? When Robin came into the store this week, he looked really distracted, but he said he wanted to order flowers for his secretary from him and his partners or something like that. I wouldn't have given it another thought, but he wanted them delivered to your address, and that seemed weird to me because you're obviously not anyone's secretary, but, I don't know, maybe somebody else lives with you and IS his secretary -"

"What are you saying, Emma?" Regina interrupted, voice terse.

"I'm saying - Regina, the times he's been into the store before, he's ordered flowers, but - he wasn't sending them to Mifflin Street. He was sending them to someone else. Someone he clearly, um, clearly cared deeply about. And I'm so sorry if this is none of my business, but I, I couldn't keep that from you, and -"

"-Emma, what the hell are you accusing Robin of," Regina said, her voice rising quickly. "If you're saying what I think you're saying -"

"I'm so sorry Regina, I just, I thought you should know-"

"This is unbelievable. Miss Swan, I don't know what you serve to gain from this, but of all the cruel things to say-" Regina was yelling at this point.

"-Her name was Marion," Emma yelled back, and suddenly Regina was silent.

"Regina?" Emma said cautiously. There was a long pause.

"Goodbye, Miss Swan."

Before Emma had time to say anything, Regina had hung up the phone. Emma sighed and put her head in her hands, leaning over her counter. She shouldn't have said anything. Maybe she didn't have the whole story. It wasn't her place, anyway, and now she'd lost the closest thing she'd had to a friend since her parents died. Emma felt horrible and just wanted to close and go home, but Thursday was always a busy work day, as many customers came to order flowers for their weekend events, so she couldn't afford to lose the business. Emma was distracted all day, not really focusing on any of her orders, and moving through to motions, all the while thinking about the damage she'd done. She'd call Regina in a couple of days, when the woman had had time to cool off, and apologize for what she'd said. Around 3 o' clock, after most of the daytime rush had left, the bell above the door rang, signaling to Emma she had another customer.

"Be right with you," she called from the back. As she began walking to the front of the store, she stopped dead in her tracks in the doorway between the storage room and the counter and stared. Regina was standing in the middle of the store, staring at the wall to Emma's left, so she didn't notice Emma walk in. At first, she thought the brunette was there to demand an explanation as to why in the hell Emma would make something up like that, but upon closer inspection, Regina's shoulders were a little slumped, and there were tear tracks staining her cheeks, which were still red. She was still wearing business professional clothing, but if she'd just come from a business deal, it hadn't gone very well.

Emma found her voice. "Regina?" she said, quietly.

Regina stood up straighter the moment she heard Emma's voice, and turned and strode over to the counter. "How do I passive-aggressively say fuck you in flowers?" she growled. Emma shrank back. She knew she'd screwed up, but she had thought maybe Regina would be able to forgive her, given time.

"Regina, I know I fucked up really badly -"

"Oh my God, Not for YOU, you idiot," Regina said exasperated, voice still low. "For HIM."

Emma's jaw dropped a little. "Oh," she said, not able to think of any other way to respond.

Regina sighed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve, which was probably the least professional thing Emma had ever seen her do. "You were right," she said quietly, the edge somewhat gone from her voice. "I checked into it. Marion, uh, Marion is the name of his real secretary, so I got on his laptop at home that's connected to his text messages - I guess he deleted their conversations off of his phone, but he forgot to delete them off his laptop. Everything was there, Emma. They've been together for months. And I didn't see a damn thing," Regina said, voice cracking slightly.

"Regina, I'm so sorry," Emma said, moving closer to the counter.

"And I'm sorry for the way I responded to you on the phone. I just - I couldn't believe that what you were saying was the truth because I couldn't believe Robin would do something like that to me," Regina apologized.

"Don't - I probably would've responded the same way in your situation. You've known him a lot longer than you have me," Emma acknowledged.

"A lot of good that did me," Regina said sarcastically. "Damn it, I MOVED here for him! I uprooted my whole life, just so we wouldn't be long distance anymore, and he repays me by what, fucking some girl half his age -" Regina broke off, unable to continue without losing it.

"What are you going to do?" Emma asked, finally.

"Well, it's over, I know that," Regina said spitefully. "He, uh, he doesn't know that I know, and I don't know if I can face him without killing him," and Emma is about to laugh mirthlessly at that when she sees Regina's face and almost thinks she's not exaggerating.

"Okay, well, I can't do much, but - one fuck you bouquet coming right up," Emma said. "Do you want it tonight?" Regina stands there for a minute, confused.

"Wait, are you serious? You actually have, like, a standard order for that?"

"Not quite, uh, standard, per say, but I'll make it happen. I can't do much, Regina, but I can do this, and maybe, uh, if you want - you can stay here and think about how you want to deal with this while I sit here and make it. On second thought, you should help. Chopping up some greenery and cutting flowers might be therapeutic. You know - some version of a voodoo doll, but less creepy." Regina pondered for a moment, and nodded.

"Okay. Where do I start?"

The women stood silently behind the work table in the back, Emma handing Regina the right flowers, showing her where to cut them, and Regina using a very sharp knife to chop off the thicker flower stems, instead of Robin's...well. When they were done, they stepped back from the table. It was massive, and the colors were striking.

"Thank you," Regina finally said, and Emma knew she was referring less to the flowers themselves and more for the quiet space to process. "I don't know if I can face him, Emma."

"Then don't," Emma said. "I have an idea. Leave this in the middle of the table, and when he comes to pick you up tonight, he'll see it. I don't know if I'm making things worse by explaining this, but when Robin came in to buy flowers for Marion, we, uh, ended up talking about the meaning of some flowers that he wanted to include in her bouquet. And I know just what to write on the card of this arrangement to, how shall I say it - get him thinking."


	3. Chapter 3

When Robin came by Regina's that night, he opened the door with his key and stood in the foyer for a minute, calling up to Regina that he was here. He let his eyes wander around the house while he waited, thinking about Marion's tiny apartment. That was one reason he didn't want to end things with Regina - there was just so much luxury he'd miss out on. The large arrangement on the dining room table caught his eye, and he frowned - it wasn't the one he'd left on the table just yesterday, and this one was - well - a little glaring for his taste. And a little big, he thought, the thing spilling over and covering most of Regina's dining room table. Curiosity getting the best of him, he walked over and picked up the card, which he immediately recognized as from the same flower shop he had purchased the other arrangement. Inside, it read:

Robin - I've been waiting for this evening all week. There's nothing quite like old fashioned romance, is there?

\- Regina

Robin frowned, a little confused. It was sort of a strange message, but he figured Regina was blathering on about love or something like that, as he found she was prone to do. He still didn't see why she went and got a whole new bouquet of flowers when his were perfectly -

Flowers.

Old fashioned romance.

..."They don't have to," the florist said, "But old fashioned romantics say flowers were used for communication in a lot of different circumstances, especially romantic intentions, and most women appreciate the gesture."...

Robin felt himself growing nervous. He looked around before rushing to the kitchen pulling up google on his laptop left on the bar. The only thing he recognized in the bouquet were carnations, so he searched "yellow carnation meaning" first. His face suddenly paled. Then he searched "tall purple flower" until he found one that looked like what was in Regina's vase. Robin clicked faster and more frantically until he had looked up every flower and confirmed that the bouquet on the dining room table consisted of foxglove (insincerity), meadowsweet (uselessness), yellow carnations (disappointment), orange lilies (hatred), and of course, geraniums (stupidity).

Robin was speechless. Could she possibly have found out? He had been so careful -

"Reading anything interesting?"

Robin whirled around in his chair, looking up at Regina, leaning in the doorway of the kitchen wearing a low cut black dress and stilettos. She'd said it so calmly, so casually, that if he hadn't been listening for it, he might have missed the ice in her voice. And he knew.

"I - uh, Gina, baby, I was reading, uh, well -" he sputtered, lost for words.

Regina sneered. "You absolute FOOL," she seethed. "How dare you come into MY house, sleep in MY bed, when you're out doing the exact same thing with Little-Red-Riding-Hood at the office," Regina's growl turning into mocking. "Did she satisfy your needs? Hmm? Did she make you feel big and strong, having the same power over her at work that you did in bed?"

Robin was speechless.

"And you know what worst part is," Regina said, voice like gravel, striding toward him as Robin shrunk in his chair. "I moved heaven and earth to be with you. I uprooted my entire life, all for you. And you LIED to me, day after day, month after month, and I defended you, because I never believed you could be stupid or cruel enough to do this." She now stood directly in front of him, and leaned in slowly so she could whisper in his ear. "I hope you rot in hell," she whispered fiercely, and then stepped back. "Get out of my house," she demanded, pointing toward the door.

"Wait - Gina - I can explain - please - " Robin tried weakly.

"Get OUT. Of my HOUSE," Regina repeated, screaming this time. "And if I EVER see you or hear from you again, I will not hesitate to strangle you. Do not underestimate me like you have done for the last four months, you fucking pig."

Robin got up out of his chair and slinked along the wall toward the door, never turning his back toward Regina. "Regina, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he said, starting to cry a little. "Please, just give me a second chance -"

Regina stood in the doorway of her home, staring down at Robin, who had escaped to the porch. "Don't you see, you idiot - this IS your second chance. You're still breathing, aren't you?" Robin stepped back. "Go to hell, Robin. It's where you belong." Regina slammed her front door, heels clicking on the wood floor as she began walking back to her living room. She was only halfway there when suddenly her tears clouded her vision uninvited and she felt a little faint, grabbing for the bar, then sagging down the wall as her sobbing became uncontrollable. She sat down, heels digging into the wood floor, chest heaving trying to get enough oxygen between sobs. After Regina had cried every tear in her, she looked around and started to feel suffocated just being in the house. There were too many things to remind her of Robin, and subsequently, everything Robin had done. She started to panic a little, and the only thing she could think to do was -

"Regina," Emma answered breathlessly on the first ring. "Is it - is it over?"

"He got the flowers," Regina said quietly, her heart rate already slowing at the sound of Emma's voice. They sat there in silence for a minute. "I was kind of afraid of what I might do if I was alone, so that's why I called -"

"I'll come over," Emma said immediately, and then immediately felt like she'd overstepped. "I mean, sorry -"

"No." Regina said.

"Yea I'm sorry that was dumb, I don't know why I suggested it -" Emma rambled.

"No, Emma, I mean I can't be in this house right now. There's too much of him everywhere in this house. I didn't mean you'd overstepped."

"Oh," Emma said. "Well, then, I could, um, meet you somewhere, to get tea or something, if you want," she suggested.

"That would be good," Regina said.

"-or you could, uh, you could come over to my house and I can make us tea?" Emma suggested nervously. "I have decaf coffee, too, if you wanted that, or bagels, or -"

"-Really?" Regina asked. "You, um, you'd be okay with me coming over?"

"Of course, Regina," Emma responded immediately. "I'll text you my address. Do you uh, want me to stay on the phone while you drive over?" Regina's heart squeezed at Emma's thoughtfulness.

"No, I think I'll be okay until then. Thank you, though," Regina responded. After they'd said their goodbyes, Regina went upstairs to change into jeans and a t-shirt instead of her dress and stilettos. She wiped off her smeared makeup, intending to reapply it, but found she didn't have the energy. Who did she need to impress, anyway?

Regina parked in front of Emma's house, which was smaller than her own, but still in a beautiful part of the historic district - a house she must have inherited from her parents when they passed, Regina realized. Emma opened the door just before Regina reached up to knock, and immediately stood back, inviting Regina inside. Emma had never seen Regina in anything less than a pantsuit, so she took in Regina's casual clothes, and more surprising than that, lack of makeup. She'd always thought Regina was pretty but she was a different kind of beautiful, like this, and Emma felt her anger renew that someone would cheat on this woman. They stood in the foyer for a second, Regina staring at the floor, and Emma staring at Regina, until Emma saw Regina's shoulders jump slightly as a sob escaped from her lips. Despite having maybe only exchanged a hand shake once before this, Emma pulled Regina into her arms, and immediately began to run her hands up and down Regina's shoulders and back. Regina didn't pull away, and lightly wrapped her arms around Emma. When Regina eventually stepped back, she immediately murmured an apology.

"Please don't," Emma pleaded. "This is why you're here, and anyone who expects you to be fine right now is stupid. I have alcohol and I have tea and there will be no judgement in this house for either choice." Regina nodded demurely.

"Thank you for letting me invade your home, then," she said. "I realize this is probably an interruption in routine, especially on a work night." Emma laughed.

"First of all, not all of us get up at 4 a.m., guns blazing, ready to work," she giggled. "Second of all, in case you need to hear it, and I kind of feel like you do, I'm going to say out loud what I'm assuming that we both know in my head: there's not anywhere else that I wish I was right now, you're not keeping me from anything or anyone, and I am not annoyed by you being here, Regina. I think you're hilarious and kind, and if you think you have to be business-put-together-perfect Regina all the time around me, I want you to know that you don't. We aren't just business partners, Regina, we're friends, and good friends are not in the business of only wanting to be friends when the other person is having a perfect day, their fault or otherwise. Are we on the same page with all that?"

Friends. Regina pondered for half a second, and realized she'd known Emma was her friend for many weeks now, Emma just hadn't said it out loud, so she hadn't really wanted to let her heart assume.

"Yea. Yes, we're on the same page," Regina responded, eyes shiny with tears for a few different reasons (but they weren't all sad anymore). "You've been really kind since I moved here too, Emma, and I'm really grateful."

"Yea, well, it would be pretty dumb of me to be mean to my best customer, wouldn't it?" Emma said, winking at Regina. "I mean, I'm not trying to sabotage my business here." Regina laughed. "C'mon, let's get something to drink - you want coffee? Tea? Whiskey? Wine?"

"No coffee unless it's to wake me up, PLEASE," Regina said. "I think if there were ever a night for wine, this would be it. I don't - I don't know if I want to talk about it tonight, Emma. Eventually, I will, but can we just, I don't know, pretend it never happened, just for tonight?"

"We can do whatever you want," Emma said, and then, turning toward the kitchen, she called back in a deeper voice, "The house's finest Cab, coming right up!" As Emma searched her kitchen to find a bottle of wine, Regina stood in a foyer just a second longer. She closed her eyes, and pushed any and every thought about the hurt Robin had caused her away. She knew nothing was going to be different when she woke up tomorrow and she couldn't make it all magically disappear, but tonight - well, she could already hear Emma turning on music in the kitchen.

**A/N: So this is the beginning of SQ - please tell me your thoughts on where this is going, suggestions, concerns, etc. Updates will come soon!**


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